


Flowering

by mxgicxltrxgedy



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: but I'm not sure yet, this might be a series?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 18:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxgicxltrxgedy/pseuds/mxgicxltrxgedy
Summary: Richie Tozier and his relationship to makeup.





	Flowering

It all started with Eddie’s stupid dare. It was the normal gang sleepover, this time at Ben’s house, and then came their eventual game of Truth or Dare. The seven of them almost knew everything about each other already- so before the end of the night was over the truth or dare became a game of dare or dare.

Eddie had a vendetta against Richie and he was prepared for the game. During the school day Richie had decided to use his granny voice in front of the chemistry class to talk about how _cute, cute, cute_ he was. Richie used his granny voice to tease about his height and his shorts _in front of the entire chemistry class_. Now, Eddie was fine with this happening in front of the losers- hell, it was even normal for Richie to tease Eddie with one of his stupid voices? But why did Richie have to grab the entire class’s attention and make fun of him. Eddie wasn’t furious, or angry, but annoyed. Eddie saved his annoyance in his chest, waiting for the end of the night for the truth or dare game to embarrass Richie back.

“Richie, truth or dare?”

“Do you know who I am, Eds? Dare!”

Eddie didn’t hesitate and didn’t have to take his time to think because he had been thinking about it since their third block that day (it had slowly became a Saturday without them caring). “I dare you to let Bev do your makeup tomorrow. Full face and you have to wear it the entire day.”

Richie didn’t falter. “You got it bud. Bev! Get ready to make me pretty!”

“Goddammit, Richie I’m not a miracle worker!”

The next morning, the losers were all sat in the grass of the side lot of Bev’s apartment watching Bev use her little brushes and pencils to paint on Richie’s face. Richie was talking himself up, hoping to make it seem he was more confident than he actually was, which he wasn’t. “Eddie, my boy, your dare game is off. You need to use that pretty little head of yours and use it for good because this isn’t your best work.”

“Beep beep.”

“Stop moving!” Bev grunted, moving Richie’s face back so that it was facing her. She was currently using a thin brush to fill in his eyebrows with a dark brown eyeshadow. “It’s like you want me to stab you in the fuckin eye.”

Richie decided against opening his mouth again and let Bev do her thing on his face. He liked the feeling of it, the brushes on his face and the liquid going over his cheeks and his eyes. He wouldn’t admit that to everyone right here as they watched him, or well, watched Bev do all of her things to him.

It was nice, all the doting that Bev had in her. That was until she had finished.

“I’m done bitch, get ready for the reveal.” Richie closed his eyes and he felt Bev’s hands place a mirror in his hand.

He moved his hand up and opened his eyes to look at himself in the mirror. Bev had followed through with Eddie’s ‘full face’ request and outdid Richie, he didn’t recognize himself. The dark purple and pink eyeshadow on his eyelids was reminiscent to something he had seen in one of Bev’s fashion magazines (he would help her go through them and pick out pages that he liked or that he knew she would like so she could hang them up for inspiration when she made her own clothes). Bev used a dark reddish pink on his cheeks, which almost made his freckles the same color as his skin. His eyebrows seemed easier on his eyes but they looked natural and not overdone as he had seen in some of those magazines.

What he liked best as he was looking at his face was his liquid lined eyes. It made his brown eyes look bigger than they were, which made him look prettier. Bev did a good job, and Richie didn’t know how to feel about it. Was he supposed to like the way the makeup felt on his face? Eddie dared Richie to do this to embarrass him, was Richie supposed to feel embarrassed? He didn’t much like the eyeshadow too much or all the blush on his cheeks. His face already was ready red all the time and the blush made him seem a little redder. Richie, looking at himself in the mirror, did what he did best, and ran his mouth to hide his thoughts.

“Thank ya, Bev!” Richie exclaimed in his old time New Yorker voice. “Now Imma Beaut!”

He held the mirror vainly, fixed a few of his unruly curls, and fixed his part. Bill stood up from his crossed leg position in between Stan and Mike and spoke up. “Wuh-we get it, R-Richie. you’re beau-beautiful.”

“Damn right I am, now come on Big Bill, give me a wet kiss and tell me how you really feel.” Richie stood up with him and slung his arm around a now Standing Eddie. “Is this why you wanted to see me like this, Eds? To see how beautiful I am?”

“Beep beep.” 

* * *

Completing the dare was actually pretty easy, much to the dismay of Eddie and the other losers that wanted to see Richie out of his comfort zone for once in his life (under their terms). Richie held his head with pride (with the exception of a few adults where he held his head down so he didn’t look them in the eye; he didn’t want to hear shit from adults). Damn, the makeup made him feel good.

Whenever they walked around town, on their way home to lunch or to go to the arcade, in all the glass of the shoppe windows or the screens of arcade games Richie couldn’t help but stare at his reflection. His eyes always looked bigger because his glasses were so thick, and the eyeliner made his eyes look prettier than they actually were- or he thought they were. He thought his eyebrows looked better too, the eyeshadow Bev used to fill them in made them look; Richie didn’t know.

When he had gone to the bathroom in the arcade, Richie took off his glasses and stared in the mirror over the sinks. He had to get closer to the sink to see his features well enough (bad eyesight made life awful sometimes) but he liked the way the makeup looked on him.

They had all played in the Barrens after lunch, spending their time as they always did: with each other. Whenever the sweat going on Richie’s face smeared the eyeshadow or he accidentally wiped under his eyes to get rid of the phantom itches Bev would always fix it up with tissues Stan asked her to keep in her backpack.

As they laid in the clearing Eddie grumbled about how this dare wasn’t enough to makeup for embarrassing him in chemistry class.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean for my granny to be that loud. She’s just so proud of much you’ve grown!”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

“I’m sorry that I’m confident with makeup on.”

“Beep fucking beep.”

“I’m sorry-“ Bev shoved his head down into his chest.

“Did you not hear him, Richie? Beep. Beep.”

Everyone laughed as Richie pouted and laid down with his back on the ground, looking up at the sky.

* * *

Richie was in his upstairs bathroom, the one he called his because his parents kept the downstairs bathroom to themselves. he had washed off his face, but kept his eyebrows untouched and he was looking at his bare face with the dark purples and pinks on his eye lids and the black liquid eyeliner that lined his eyes- Richie was debating whether or not he should wash it off.

He didn’t mind if the pink came off, but he wanted to keep the black on, at least for a little longer. He went to the other side of the bathroom and took a piece of toilet paper and Richie, as carefully as he could, wiped the eyeshadow off. It smeared a little to his temples and under his eyes but he was able to keep a little of the eyeliner around his eyes. It wasn’t as thick as it had been before- but it was there and with that Richie changed into his pajamas and went to bed.

* * *

Richie strolled through the dollar store, running throughout the fridge aisles going to his normal stops: cheese and milk. The went down the bread aisle, grabbing the loaf he knew as the cheapest brand. Richie threw the items in the small hand basket and made his way through the aisles, making sure he didn’t forget anything that couldn’t wait until the next time he went shopping (or his father got off his ass to go to the actual grocery store).

Richie had forgotten paper plates, and plastic utensils and cups- which he always forgets no matter what. As he was walking down the last aisle he stopped.

Makeup aisle. The plastic chrome of every makeup aisle décor shone under the bright lights. He passed this aisle every time he shopped but this time, the day after the dare. He can’t remember exactly what Bev used, he had his glasses off and wasn’t really paying attention to the containers she held as much as he was the feeling of the liquid and brushes on his face and the looks from the rest of the losers on him.

Richie took a few hesitant steps down the aisle, looking at all the products with furrowed brows. Richie looked at the varying skin colored products, and the different swatches of reds and pinks, and then the little black pencils caught his eye.

Richie looked at all the different brands and different styles and he felt overwhelmed. What was he even doing looking at this stuff? He should be going to the checkout. He shouldn’t waste the money he stole from his mom’s purse on makeup, he should use it for stuff for the house like food and light bulbs. Richie, in a haste and like himself not thinking it through, he took one of the pencils and stuck it in the pocket of his shorts, shuffling his way out of the aisle to the check out, looking down the aisles to make sure no one saw.

* * *

“Bevvie, I really need a cigarette.” Richie greeted, leaning down to where she was hidden behind some concrete siding during lunch. Beverly managed to sneak out here every day for her daily school cigarette- Richie came most often too, only after he finished his lunch with the rest of the losers. Bev didn’t eat lunch most days, she was never really hungry. She usually joined them after her cig if Richie wasn’t there to keep her company. Sometimes Ben sat out there with her, not to smoke but to be her company but the smoke hurt his chest so he didn’t spend all his days out there.

“When do you not need a cig, Rich?” Bev held her camel box out and open for Richie to take one of her cigarettes and she glanced up at her friend. Her eyes watched Richie as he settled into the grass next to her with his back on the concrete like her.

Richie took one and went into his shorts for his lighter he swiped from the pharmacy one day. Bev continued to watch her friend and couldn’t put her finger on why she couldn’t look away. It wasn’t anything obvious, so she dropped the thought, moving to stuff the pack of cigarettes back in her g/psy bag that she had slung on the ground when she sat down.

“If only I knew, Bev.” Richie took the cigarette in his mouth and cupped the flamed around the end so the slight breeze didn’t stop his lighter from igniting. Once it lit, Richie took a deep inhale and glanced over at Bev. “How was physics today, babe?”

Bev groaned. “God, Rockey is such an ass. All I want to do is do my work and get out, I don’t want a goddamn lecture for sitting weird or cursing. Next time he tries to do something, I’m gonna walk out and come to your class.”

“Yeah and Mrs. Isaacs will be so pleased with that knowing that she hated me already.”

Bev shoved Richie’s shoulder. “We’ll go to Ben’s class then because he and Mr. Bales actually like each other.”

Bev looked over at the laughing Richie and noticed it, what had caught her attention before but hadn’t caught it enough to place it. She held out her hand to Richie’s shoulder and grabbed it instead of shoving it away. She looked over at Richie’s face and she saw it even clearer now through his glasses. “Did you not wash off all the makeup from Saturday? You still have some eyeliner left on your eyes.”

Bev’s hand went to Richie’s face to take her thumb under the lenses of his glasses to smudge it away but Richie pulled himself away from Bev’s hand and pushed her hand back down to her own lap. Bev was shocked that Richie had pushed her away, not in a joking way. Richie sat himself off and tried to brush off his impulsive and unintentional action by shifting his body and tried to make it seem like he was just changing his position next to her. “Yeah, there might still be some there. You don’t have to get it off Bevvie, I had it on for the entire day I’ll just wait until I get home to wash it off completely.”

Bev had gotten a little bit of the eyeliner on her thumb and rubbed it and saw how it smudged on her skin. It was a pencil eyeliner, dried liquid eyeliner didn’t smudge his much- especially if it had been sitting on someone’s face for two days. Bev’s tone became soft as she spoke to her best friend. “You know, rich, I didn’t use a pencil eyeliner on you.”

Richie was silent. If he was silent he didn’t admit to anything, right? He understood that from cop shows and history class?

Bev contemplated what she would say next. She didn’t know why Richie put makeup on even though he had dreaded the dare in the first place? Had he really dreaded it? Bev didn’t know what to think because so many thoughts in her head were zooming past she couldn’t catch one to hold onto. “It looks good on you, Rich.”

And it did.

* * *

“Pay attention and be a good student, Richie.” Bev said, speaking softly as they sat in her room. Her dad was out working and her mom was asleep in her parents’ bedroom. Richie was able to climb through the fire escape and through the house into Bev’s room, but they had to be quiet and Richie had to be gone and left no trace he was there by five- before her dad got home. “What did you like from the makeup I did on you?”

Riche was sitting in the seat in front of her large vanity mirror that also acted as her desk for school work and plans for clothes projects. He tried thinking, and remembering what he looked like. “I didn’t like the blush, or the eyeshadow, or the shiny stuff on my face.”

Bev nodded, sitting at the foot of her bed so he was next to Richie, and started going through her makeup bag and pulling out the stuff he was saying no to. No blush, no eyeshadow, no highlight, no glitter. “Did you like the foundation?”

Bev held up the foundation bottle she used so he could see. He looked at it quizzically and shrugged. “I mean, yeah? But I wouldn’t want to wear it all the time all over my face. Maybe when I have a zit or something- or maybe when I can’t sleep.”

Bev smiled and nodded, “So we have eyeliner, concealer. I’ll teach you how to fill in your eyebrows later.” As she spoke she held up the items that Richie wanted. “Do you want to try lip balm or gloss or anything like that?”

Richie shook his head. “No, not now, anyway.”

Bev took the two bottles in her hand and pushed the rest of her makeup away closer to the headboard, then she scooted closer the Richie, letting her feet hang of the end of her bed. She pulled his chair closer to her and motioned him to move his legs so that he was more so facing her than the vanity. “Now you’re taking a lesson from Mrs. Marsh.”

Bev sat with Richie, showing him how to apply the makeup and what different things he could do with it. Richie didn’t realize how hard the makeup would be and how many different ways you could go wrong (as Bev explained- because he liked the makeup but didn’t want it to look like he was wearing makeup). Bev put the concealer under his eyes and showed him how to spread it out (“blend” Bev corrected) and how to use a triangle sponge if he wanted. With the eyeliner she showed him how to use a pencil eyeliner and how to use liquid eyeliner (the thought of applying that on his own scared him- it went everywhere when he tried to put it on at Bev’s vanity).

When five o’clock came Richie crawled out of the window to her kitchen fire escape with a small Ziploc bag that held the eyeliner that Richie stole from the dollar store, a small brush to help him to make the eyeliner even and clean it he wants to, concealer (Bev could get a new one later- she had foundation for now), and a small triangle sponge she grabbed from the pack that she had lying around.

“Bevvie, you’re an angel and don’t let anybody tell you different.” Richie dipped his shaggy head down to kiss her on her freckled cheek. “I’ll catch you tomorrow?”

“You sure will.” Bev replied, waving her fingers at him as a goodbye and closed the window after him. His curly hair bounced down the fire escape and past her neighbor’s little boy who was sitting with his airplane on the steps outside his apartment.

* * *

Richie gracefully fell into the seat next to Stan in the cafeteria about a week and a half after the dare. Richie reached over and took a cucumber from Eddie’s lunchbox. “How’s it crackalackin home slices?”

“B-boring.” Bill spoke from Eddie’s other side. “No, sma-smokes today?”

Richie smiled a wicked grin. “No, Bev’s not here today and I’m not one to smoke on my lonesome.”

Eddie who had been staring at Richie’s face since he sat down spoke up. “Are you wearing lip gloss?”

Richie’s mind stopped only for a second. Bev had convinced him to try some light pink lip gloss that matched his lips so it wouldn’t look too noticeable against his already pink lips. He had been wearing a few days- keeping it in his backpack and sneaking off to the bathroom to apply it (and to smoke, obviously). Riche made guns with his fingers and pointed them at Eddie. “Wowza, Eds,” he said in a voice he couldn’t place with an exact title. “You’re eyes are getting betta seeing as I’ve been wearing makeup the past week and none of you have actually fuckin noticed.”

Ben dropped his plastic fork on his plate and leaned from Stan’s other side to look at Richie. Ben thought Richie’s face looked like it normally had and Stan couldn’t take his eyes off Richie’s, suddenly noticing the black makeup around his eyes.

“What the heck?” Mike asked, “When did you start wearing makeup?”

Richie smirked. he was relieved that his friends hadn’t said anything awful (but honestly who would’ve expected they would?) “Wouldn’t you like to know, Micycle?”

Stan breathed a laughed (trying to keep it under his breath) and whispered, “Fuck.

Richie laughed with the reaction of the nickname for Mike (he came up with it a few days ago but kept it to himself so he could save it for a good moment).

“Really, Rich? Micycle?” Mike asked, pushing his tray of food away from him and crossing his arms on his chest. “I thought I got away without having a stupid nickname.”

Richie looked mike dead in the eye. “No one is safe.”

The group cackled at Richie’s dead stare and the makeup subject was dropped as if it were Richie stating what he had eaten that day. Actually, a conversation about what Richie had eaten would’ve lasted longer with Eddie complaining that he wasn’t eating enough and that he needed to take care of himself with Mike and Bill joining in.

Richie and his makeup were brought up again the next day when Bev was back, the boys making jokes that Richie would be even more self-centered than he normally was if he actually looked _good_ all the time. Bev would ruffle Richie’s hair and kiss his cheek, leaving a pinkish red lipstick mark on his freckles. “He’s always beautiful boys. Makeup just makes him a little more polished.”

“Polished poop, maybe.” Stan said, cracking a grin. Richie threw a pencil at him and it hit Stan in the chest. “But it’s okay, cause it’s polished.”

Richie smiled. “Thanks Stan the Man.”

Bev looped her around around Richie’s neck, “Well he’s our polished piece of shit so we gotta take care of him, no matter what.”


End file.
